


The Battle of Trenton.

by Quill1760



Category: American Revolution - Fandom
Genre: American Revolution, Battle of Trenton, Gen, History, Revolution, Short Story, the battle of trenton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quill1760/pseuds/Quill1760
Summary: This short story is a historical-fiction about the Battle of Trenton during the America Revolution. The characters; Charlotte Ó Cuinn, Edwin and Abraham D'aubert are all original characters from a book I am currently writing, and are not real people who were in the battle. This short story was for my English class, and even though the character have changed since then, this section - although altered- still remains in the book.This short story is about a battle in the American Revolution, set on 26 December 1776. A woman, Charlotte Ó Cuinn, has disguised herself as a man names Charlie and has joined the revolution. She is accompanied by her two friends, Edwin (who knows Charlottes true identity), and Abraham (who does not). This story focuses on Charlottes experiences during the battle.Enjoy! :)





	The Battle of Trenton.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to quickly mention that because this story was a short story for my English class, and because we had a max word count of 800 (which I exceeded), the story isn't completely historically accurate. There are parts of this story that stay true to what happened during the battle of Trenton, but there are many aspects which didn't happen so that I could continue the story and not go over the set word count too much.

Battle of Trenton  
26 December 1776

It all seemed so simple, but nothing ever is. Joining the war under a fake name seemed simple. Proving herself and fighting for her new home country all seemed simple, at least before she started. She did not take into account how serious a risk she was taking; if anyone found out she was a woman her life would be ruined, as she was fighting a man's war.

Thoughts were racing through Charlotte's head. The pandemonium from the rest of the soldiers was starting to get to her, and she was beginning to fear the consequences of her decisions. Everyone was in a state of trepidation, but Charlotte had more to fear than the rest. If she didn't die in battle, she was sure she would be executed for her forged identity. She tried to avoid the thoughts of what might happen, as they would trouble her even more; however, her surroundings brought her back to a recurring thought. "Will I die?". The smell of gunpowder filled the air, reminding her of the danger she is in. As far as the eye could see, soldiers were loading guns, sharpening bayonets, filling their powder horns; the fear in every eye brought her back to that specific thought. It was impossible to avoid, no matter how hard she was trying.

The late December air was bitter, and stabbed her skin like needles. Everyone huddled together, trying to preserve as much heat as possible. All the soldiers were malnourished, exhausted, scared and frozen. The cold leached most enthusiasm and happiness from the soldiers, the thought of battle stole the rest. Even though they had more men and weapons than the British, everyone was scared of the outcome, as an army's strength only has a small effect on a war. What really influences a victory or defeat is the skill and planning of the attack.

Charlotte ó Cuinn was sat near a small fire made by the men. They were close to Trenton, but the men were finally able to take a break. They had been marching despondently for hours in harsh weather; even though Washington was riding up and down the line of soldiers trying to motivate them, they still had low spirits. Washington had just had an altercation with Adam Stephen, loudly reporting he "May have ruined all my plans." They later resolved this with a detailed and careful discussion about tactics. A quick break was given and they tried to keep themselves warm by huddling around small fires they had made out of dried sticks and pieces of their ragged uniform. Charlotte's tired face was illuminated by the light from the small yet blistering fire. Her short and messy hair was a golden walnut colour, and hung over her exhausted and pale face. Her teal blue eyes were surrounded by freckles, though her freckles were almost all covered up by dirt and gunpowder, a feature the majority of the soldiers shared. Charlotte was sitting next to two men. One was tall and slim, with golden hair tied up in a neat low ponytail. He had a thin chin and jawline, shaded with rough stubble. He was holding Charlotte's hand, trying to calm her down, but in reality it was to ease his own nerves. The other man was a lot taller, and had a big build. He had short black hair, and dark russet skin. His eyes were a deep brown, which could be mistaken for black, and his jawline was prominent and sharp. They were all wearing standard Continental army uniform; sapphire blue coat, cream waistcoat and trousers and black boots.

"Are you okay?" The taller man asked, leaning closer to Charlotte so she could hear him over the chaos, also known as the other soldiers.

"I'm fine, Edwin... I'm fine." This was an obvious lie, as no one about to go into battle can truly be fine.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, you've proved enough in these last few months-"

"No. I'm doing this," she rebuked.

Before Edwin could respond to her, Washington could be heard yelling for everyone to get up and start moving. It was at first a slow reaction, but eventually everyone got up. They marched to the British base in Trenton, only a short walk away but the cold made it seem longer. They were mere minutes away when the realisation of what was about to happen truly kicked in. The glow of the British lanterns was in sight, and the yelling of British men could be heard.

"Dieu nous sauve tous," Abraham could be heard muttering over and over again. He was still holding Charlotte's hand, and from the increasing grip it was obvious that his nerves were getting the better of him.

They were finally there, all the build-up led to this. The orders were given to ambush, and everyone started marching faster and faster towards their inevitable fate. The yelling started to escalate louder and louder, surrounding the men in an atmosphere of seemingly endless commotion. Then the cannons and guns began to fire. Men fell to the ground. One after another they fell into the cold, harsh snow, which slowly transformed into deep red slush. The soldiers were blinded by the smoke, which filled the air, so they started firing randomly into the gunpowder clouds.

Charlotte was lost in the maelstrom of uproar, stiffened by each gunshot which was sent ringing through her ears. She froze. Stood in the middle of a storm like war; with thunderous gunshots and gunpowder clouds. She was finally able to lift her flintlock rifle up, her hands shaking with every movement. She moved her hands back to the trigger, and fired. The gun made a snapping noise when it fired, and smoke burst into the air. A piercing scream echoed through the area. All Charlotte could see was a red coat plummet to the ground. Everything slowed down as she watched on at what she'd done. She saw blood flow through the snow, infecting its pureness like a plague. Charlotte's eyes widened in fear, this time not in fear of the war, but fear of herself. She threw her gun on the ground and stared at it in consternation. Her hands were shaking, and a tear slowly cascaded down her face. Her heart stopped. The noises silenced. The commotion stopped. All she could focus on was the blood trailing towards her. It was unclear how long she was standing there for, time slowed and was surreal, as if she was in a dream like nightmare.

"CHARLIE!" Everything came back to her in one burst of chaos. The sounds, the panic, the smells, and the fear, it all came back to her. Before she could truly comprehend what was happening she saw a gun's barrel aimed towards her. She was still in shock. She couldn't move. It didn't even occur to her where the voice had came from, or who it belonged to, but she was about to find out. Before she could react to the situation she had zoned back into, Abraham had stood in front of her. His body jolted, and a burst of rose erupted through his shoulder. He fell backwards onto the snow layered ground, gripping his shoulder that was bleeding out. The pain of his wound was beginning to unfold upon him. Charlotte suddenly escaped her frozen prison and fell to her knees beside him.

"Abraham! Abraham!" She yelled, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." She put her hands on the wound, holding down in a futile attempt to try and stop the bleeding. She ripped part of her coat and held it down trying to stem the wound. Nothing worked. She kept trying, but it was futile. Abraham lay in the snow, his life slowly being drawn from his body. He put his hand over hers, and gave a warm smile. A smile that could melt the surrounding snow. A smile which made it seem like he was unaware of the situation, or at least trying to ignore the thought of it. Charlotte stopped and stared into his eyes. His once blue eyes had their colour and life stolen from them. Only concealed disquiet remained. She tried to smile for him, but she couldn't. How could she smile now?

"Abraham!" Edwin came rushing to Abraham's side, assessing the situation. "Okay, we've got to get you away from here. Quickly, Charlotte, help me!" Abraham's eyes flashed a brief look of confusion. Edwin had slipped up, calling Charlotte by her real name instead of Charlie. He was too caught up in this situation to realise his mistake, making it a query Abraham would probably bring up later... if he was around to do so.

Edwin held up Abraham's torso, trying to avoid his wounded shoulder, and Charlie held up his legs. They quickly carried him to a safer area behind a building. Abraham's breathing became shallow, and his face was absent of colour. The blood from his shoulder had already soaked the material used to stem it, and showed no sign of stopping. They replaced the material, but the blood was relentless.

"We can't keep him here," Edwin proclaimed, "he's going to bleed out if we don't do something about it." He held his blood covered hand down on the wound, looking around for somewhere to go. He turned to Charlotte and muttered, "Time's running out..."

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Word Count: 1578


End file.
